


A little danger (never stopped me before)

by Chim



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Blood, No actual violence, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Serial Killer Steve Rogers, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 22:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19450570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chim/pseuds/Chim
Summary: Bucky had known right from the start that he would meet his Soulmate in a dangerous, possibly deadly setting. So he wasn't surprised when he turned out to be a serial killer.(Inspired by that tweet:murderer: run if you want to liveme: *starts sprinting*murderer: not like toward me tho)





	A little danger (never stopped me before)

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky is kinda suicidal in this. Don't worry, he doesn't get hurt.

Someone was going around Brooklyn killing people. 

The victims were all men between twenty and thirty-five. All had knife wounds on their bodies, and from the angle and depth of the slashes the killer was suspected to be a woman. 

It wasn’t a woman. Bucky knew that, because he had the killer right in front of him. 

Lean and on the shorter side, face obscured under a dark hood. A body on the dirty pavement of the alley, blood spreading underneath. Blood on the knife held tight in his gloved hand. Deep voice, undoubtedly masculine. 

“Run if you want to live,” the killer had said, and the Soulwords around Bucky’s throat had tingled. He knew what that meant. 

Heart hammering in his throat, Bucky hesitated only a moment before sprinting – towards the killer. He was already panting after trying to outrun those thugs, lungs burning, blood pounding against his skull. He didn’t know if they were still chasing him. Couldn’t turn around to check. 

The killer jerked back, clearly caught off-guard, and raised his knife: “Not towards me tho.” 

Bucky let himself fall to his knees in front of the man that was probably his Soulmate, scraping his hands and knees on the rough pavement. With the little breath he had left, he pleaded: “Kill me quickly.” If he was right and that man really was his Soulmate, then he had good chances of being spared. If he was wrong… death by knife was better than whatever Pierce had planned for him. 

Like a switch had been flicked, the killer’s posture went tense for a moment before relaxing. A hand grabbed his arm and pulled: “Get up. Is someone looking for you?” 

Bucky nodded, a bit surprised when the other man managed to pull him to his feet – he must have been stronger than he looked. He caught a glimpse of blue eyes and blonde hair from beneath the hood. A racket of steps from behind compelled him to look back. No one had turned into that alley. Yet. He turned back to the killer, looked up at him. “Slit my throat if you really want to, I can’t let them get me.” 

The hand gripping his arm squeezed a bit. “You’re my Soulmate, I won’t hurt you,” the killer declared, and the calm composure of his voice was strangely soothing. “Let’s get out of here.” He tugged Bucky towards a service door on the side of a building, a door he’d thought would be locked but instead opened with just a push. 

They stepped into a dark stairwell, and the killer shut the door behind them. A few moments later they heard heavy steps and shouting coming from the alley they had just left. Pierce’s men must have found the body. 

Still holding Bucky’s arm in a firm grip the killer walked up the stairs, across a short hallway and deserted offices, then made him climb out from a low window into a different alley where a nondescript car was parked. The killer pushed him into the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel, starting the engine. Before Bucky could fully realize what was happening they were already driving off to who-knows-where. 

The Soulwords were still tingling faintly; Bucky rubbed a hand across his throat. “Everyone always insisted that it was a quote from some movie,” he said. “That it’d be a joke. But somehow I knew it wouldn’t be.” 

The killer stayed quiet for a few moments, like he was absorbing that information. “Mom was convinced you would say my words during a game. Like paintball or Cluedo,” he admitted. “I think the alternative was too much for her.” 

“Are you going to kill me?” Despite his earlier words, Bucky wasn’t quite ready to die. 

“No. Pretty sure I’m kidnapping you tho.” 

That wasn’t too bad. Bucky could deal with being kidnapped by his Soulmate. “Okay.” He relaxed back on the seat, sighing, exhaustion finally catching up with him as Brooklyn’s lights blurred and melted together outside the car window. Running from Pierce and then meeting his serial killer Soulmate had completely drained him. “I think I’m gonna take a nap now,” he murmured, eyes already slipping shut. He barely heard his Soulmate’s baffled “what?” and didn’t manage an answer before he promptly passed out. 

Waking up in an unfamiliar bed didn’t faze him as much as it probably should’ve. It was more comfortable than his own bed, without doubt, softer and warmer. And he wasn’t even tied up like he’d expected. 

Bucky yawned and rolled over, sitting up. The room was clearly someone’s bedroom, coated in soft darkness: he could see the outline of a desk and a chair, a closet and some kind of dresser. On the bedside table on his right was a lamp, and he reached to turn it on. The sudden light almost blinded him; Bucky rubbed a hand over his face and almost jumped out of his skin when he realized he wasn’t alone in the room. 

A man stood beside the door, watching him, arms crossed. He was lean and slim, not particularly tall. Blonde hair, blue eyes. He was the serial killer that’d been terrorizing Brooklyn for months. Bucky’s Soulmate. 

“Uhm, hi.” Bucky smiled a bit, suddenly feeling shy. “Thanks for saving me back there.” 

A single eyebrow was raised. “One could argue that being taken by a serial killer can’t be considered _saving_ ,” he stated, deadpan. When Bucky just shrugged, he let his arms fall to his sides and sighed. “I think we should talk, James.” 

“Bucky.” 

The man faltered. “What?” 

“James’ my actual name, but my friends call me Bucky.” 

For the first time, his Soulmate smiled – a small thing, but somewhat fond. “Alright. Bucky.” He grabbed the chair and moved it in front of Bucky, then sat down. “My name’s Steve.” 

“Wait. How did you know _my_ name?” 

“The student ID in your wallet. Sorry, I needed to know if someone was going to look for you in the immediate future.” 

Oh. That made sense. Bucky felt a bit stupid for not having thought of it earlier. “No one’s looking for me.” Except Pierce, probably. And the school if he suddenly stopped paying taxes. 

Steve dragged the chair a bit closer. “You said my Words.” His eyes were piercing, staring right into Bucky’s soul. 

“Yeah, well. You said mine.” For some reason, Bucky felt calm. He’d always known that what his Words implied was dangerous. Deep down, he’d always known that he’d find himself face to face with a killer. A killer that wasn’t going to kill him: somehow, he was absolutely sure that Steve wouldn’t hurt him. “We’re Soulmates.” 

“Are you okay with that?” Steve was frowning, hands twisting as if he was nervous. As if he thought Bucky would reject him. 

“I guess that depends on why you kill people.” _Liar_. Bucky knew it didn’t really matter. Now that he’d found his Soulmate he wouldn’t let him go so easily. 

Steve’s eyes darkened. “Some people are just not fit for polite society.” For some reason Bucky was pretty sure Steve wasn’t talking about himself. “The man I killed last night? A known offender. He tried to touch one of my kids. Police couldn’t or wouldn’t do anything, so _I_ did.” 

“Your kids?” Bucky repeated, cold trickling in his stomach. “You have kids?” Was he intruding on a pre-existing relationship? Was there a woman in the other room, Steve’s wife, playing with a bunch of children while Steve talked with him? 

Steve frowned, confused. “What? No. I’m a teacher,” he explained. “I teach art to children.” 

“Oh.” Relief instantly poured into him. “Okay.” 

“Nothing to say about the killing part?” 

Bucky began to shake his head, then stopped and actually _thought_ about it. “As long as the people you kill deserve it…” 

“They are irredeemable,” Steve stated, so firm and sure that it was impossible not to believe him. “They know they’re hurting other people, but they refuse to better themselves. I’m just trying to make Brooklyn a safer place.” 

“Good.” Bucky saw the surprise on the other man’s face, and smirked. “I’m not exactly a saint myself, you know. Remember those thugs running after me? Made mistakes, got involved with the wrong people. Now they think I owe them or something.” 

Steve stood up from the chair and moved to sit beside Bucky; he put his hand on Bucky’s thigh and gently squeezed. For a single moment, something dark and dangerous flashed in his eyes. They looked cold, calculating. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of them.” 

Bucky nodded, smiled. He wasn’t afraid. They were Soulmates. And what if Steve was a little bit sick? Bucky was a little bit broken, too. 

He knew there must have been a reason why Fate put them together. 

**Author's Note:**

> To all those who have reached the end: thanks for reading!   
> If you have a moment to spare, please comment and let me know what you think, what you liked and what you would have done differently. :)


End file.
